


whiskey's lull

by soapyconnor



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Cam boy, M/M, Masturbation, Smut, Sounding, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 23:50:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13259202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soapyconnor/pseuds/soapyconnor
Summary: whiskey's a cam boy. 'bout it.





	whiskey's lull

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the summary b=gjkhdfkjghfkh but that's literally ALL it is!!! i didn't think there'd be anything else to title it . . . anyways i hope u like it!!! i haven't written smut in a long time so i hope it's like.....decent lol
> 
> follow me on tumblr @heggsys!!!!

            This had never been Whiskey’s big plan for life. I mean . . . it wasn’t a bad gig by no means. All he had to do was jack himself off for a little bit in front of a camera, maybe fuck himself on a few items, and he got paid. Not only did the hosting website pay him good money, but fans sent him money as well. It was a good living. But it lacked in other aspects . . . couldn’t really take sick days, there was no 401K, and no health plan to speak of. He was lucky fans paid so much just to see him, because otherwise . . . well . . . he’d probably be dead by now.

            Sighing, he softly rolled over onto his side, and dropped an arm across Eggsy’s chest, holding him close. He softly kissed his shoulder, then gently bit it, causing him to get a soft kickback from Eggsy. “Enough, luv,” Eggsy said tiredly.

            “Nah,” Whiskey whispered, placing soft kisses along his shoulder blades. “If I gotta be up, then so do you.”

            “Nah, I really don’,” he said with a yawn. “Sides, don’t think your fan would enjoy seein’ your boyfriend in your private session, do ya?”

            He sighed again, and buried his face against his shoulder. “No. Probably not . . . But I’m sure _yours_ would love too.”

            “Well, I’m not performing for mine, am I?” he asked in return, gently nudging him. “Get up, mate. The call’s scheduled in a couple minutes. Don’t want to disappoint your most loyal customer, eh?”

            Whiskey sighed, but sat up in the bed anyways. He ran a hand through his hair, and glanced at Eggsy. He opened his mouth to say something, but noticed the young man was asleep, and instead closed his jaw. He leaned over, and placed a soft kiss to the man’s head, before he got up, and began to wander towards his office. He was grateful that Eggsy was in the same business as him, otherwise he wasn’t so sure how this relationship would work out . . . Whiskey chuckled. If he was being honest, if it wasn’t for Eggsy, he wouldn’t still be doing this, or have gotten up today to please this . . . this _Galahad_ fellow.

            But, nevertheless, Galahad was paying him close to a grand for these private shows every now and again, and would pay him even _more_ if he allowed him to download the clips. Which, Whiskey did. He wasn’t stupid. A grand for one video, _plus_ more if you can download it? He hoped that this Galahad fellow had a good job in order to be paying him this much . . .

            Whiskey walked into his office, and closed his eyes momentarily. He striped himself of his pajamas, and looked around. He found the toys Galahad usually asked him to use on himself, and put them by the bed. He found some lube—which you would _figure_ they had plenty of, but were usually on short supply—and put it alongside the toys.

            He pulled his laptop up, and adjusted the angle, until it just perfectly cut off the top half of his face. He sat down on the bed, and then started up the private stream. He waited until Galahad’s named popped up, and he heard a posh voice tentatively say, “Hello.”

            “Howdy,” Whiskey responded, like usual. This is how they would always greet one another, with Galahad being sheepish, and scared, while Whiskey was . . . well . . . himself. “Anything special ya want me t’ start with t’day, darlin’?” he made sure to make his accent thicker than usual. When he heard a hitch in Galahad’s voice, he knew he had done it _just_ right. It helped that he was normally exhausted during these streams.

            “I . . . Actually, yes,” he said, causing Whiskey to perk up. Normally, it was pretty vanilla stuff with Galahad. Just a little bit of jerkin’ off, he’d fuck himself with a dildo a little bit, and that was it. This was the first time he had decided to introduce anything new.

            “I’m listenin’.”

            “I . . . I would like you to whip yourself, if that’s all right,” Galahad said unsurely.

            Whiskey smirked. “Of _course,_ it’s all right, anythin’ for you, darlin’,” he said as he leaned forward, and carefully picked up one of the whips in his collection. “Any place in particular ya want me t’ hit?”

            “Your chest . . . a-and groin,” Galahad murmured shyly. “I want there to be red welts.” Then he added, “You don’t have too.”

            “You’re payin’ me over a grand t’ see me. Anythin’ t’ pleasure ya, sir,” Whiskey said as he began to grab the tip of the whip along his body. First, he started at his groin, then he moved it upwards. Galahad took a sharp breath inward, and then he let out a small moan as Whiskey took the whip and smacked it as hard as he could near his cock. He jerked his hips upwards, and let out a soft moan. “Is that what ya want?”

            “ _Yes_ ,” Galahad moaned, and Whiskey could hear him shifting awkwardly. “Please. Again.”

            Whiskey raised it, and struck the same part of skin over again. Then again. Then again. He nearly nicked his cock at one-point, which Galahad seemed to like. So . . . obviously, the next reasonable thing to do was to actually hit it. He did so, and it sent a rush of excitement through him. From the gasp Galahad made, Whiskey could tell it did the same thing to him. “Did ya like that?” Whiskey asked breathlessly as his cock jerked upwards, slowly growing harder.

            “W-Whiskey—you— _didn’t_ —” Galahad stuttered, and Whiskey knew his eyes had to be as wide as saucers, “Oh _God_.”

            “I’m guessing that’s a yes.”

            “Oh . . . _definitely_ ,” Galahad murmured, as he watched Whiskey strike himself a few more times, welts beginning to form. “Oh, my days . . .”

            “Had enough yet?”

            “Yes . . . I . . . I have another request.”

            “That is?”

            “Ah . . . sounding?” he said, voice tight. “I know you did it at one point, when you did a live stream and took requests, but—”

            “Darlin’, you’re perfectly all right,” he said, giving a crooked smile. “Hang on.” He got up, and was grateful he didn’t show his face, because he winced. He gasped, and his thighs trembled. Once he steadied himself, he began to rummage through his arsenal of toys, before he found a rod. “A smooth rod, or one with ridges on it?” he called.

            “Smooth rod.”

            “All righty, mate,” he said as he walked back to the bed. He flopped back down, and grabbed a bottle of lube. He began to gently rub at his slit as he popped open the bottle of lube. He poured a little bit onto his cock, then used both hands to slather some onto the rod. Once he had worked open his slit wide enough, he slowly began to insert the rod. His breathing began to increase, and he could hear Galahad’s increasing as well.

            Whiskey smirked a little bit, and said breathlessly, “You know, I’ve been doing these shows for you for years, and I’ve always called you by your handle. Would be nice to know your name.”

            Galahad’s attention seemed to perk. “I don’t believe that helps with this being anonymous.”

            “I guess you’re right— _ngh_ ,” he interrupted himself, his breath hitching and his body jerking forward a bit. His thighs began to tremble, and he gripped his cock tightly, working the rod in a little faster. “It would be nice to— _ah_ —call a real name f-f-for _once._ ”

            “I’m sure a handsome man like you has a boyfriend.” Galahad’s voice was so _infuriating_ calm and collected. If Whiskey didn’t know him so well, he would think that the man was uninterested. But they’ve been doing this for _years_ and he can hear the subtle changes in his voice.

            “Y-you’re right, I-I do . . . but when I-I’m— _oh­_ —jacking off for someone, I would l-like someone to . . . to _call_ too, y’know?” Whiskey said, cantering his hips upward, and grunted a bit. “I’ll tell me mine if you tell me yours.”

            Galahad went still, then he said, “My name is Harry.”

            “Jack.”

            “Hm. Like the drink.”

            Whiskey chuckled. “You’re quick, ain’t you?”

            “I have to be,” Galahad—no, _Harry_ —said, “You’re gorgeous.”

            “You can’t even see my face.”

            “No . . . but I know every inch of your body. I know the way you move, what your various smiles mean. How when you smile crookedly, you’re amused, but the happiness you feel is immense. How your face bursts into an incredibly wide smile when you’re enjoying yourself . . . How your hips canter upwards when you’re about to your breaking point, and how your thighs tremble with increasing need . . .” Harry paused when he heard Whiskey moan loudly, and he seemed genuinely surprised that he was creating this sort of reaction. He watched Whiskey’s hand gently tighten around the base of his cock, and how he grew a little faster at fucking himself with the rod. “How your chest slowly blooms with redness as you come closer and closer, your chest _heaving_ with exertion . . . your mouth gapes and gasps for air—”

            Whiskey let out loud, “Oh, God, _Harry_ ,” before he pulled the rod out and came all over himself. Cum dribbled down his cock, and his chest in large spurts. Whiskey panted heavily, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, _Harry_ —” he started to say, when he heard the door open behind him.

            He tensed, and glanced over his shoulder to see Eggsy standing there. “Are you all right?” Eggsy asked, worry all over his face.

            “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” he said, smiling tiredly at Eggsy. Eggsy nodded, then realized he was on camera, and tensed a little awkwardly.

            “All right . . . ah . . . bye,” Eggsy replied, before he quickly darted out of the room.

            Whiskey turned back to the camera. “I’m sorry about that—”

            “Was that your boyfriend?”

            Whiskey raised an eyebrow in surprise, and he sat up a little bit, gently tugging at his cock. “Ah . . . yes he was.”

            “I didn’t know you and ScrambledEggs are dating,” Harry said seriously, which caused Jack to chuckle lightly. “What’s so funny?”

            “Sorry, it’s just my boyfriend just choice such a stupid username, I can’t help but laugh every time I see it or hear it,” Whiskey said, shaking his head. “But yes, we’re together. I’m guessing you watch him too then?”

            “O-occasionally . . . All right, a little more than occasionally—”

            “I was about to say, because you recognized him by his chest and voice—”

            “But I don’t pay to have private streams with him, no.”

            “I figured as much. He would have mentioned it. So . . . you loyal to me or something?”

            “Something like that,” Harry murmured, then gasped as Whiskey swiped a hand over his chest, and stuck his fingers in his mouth. “He’s very attractive, but . . . you’re more of my type.”

            “You like hicks?”

            “Something like that.”

            Whiskey chuckled softly. “All right, fair enough. What would you like me to do now?”

            “The usual . . . I think that’s enough experimenting for one day,” Harry mumbled sheepishly. “Thank you.”

            “Ya don’t need t’ thank me,” Whiskey said as he adjusted himself on his bed, and began to coat his fingers with lube. He then began to work his finger inside of himself, humming to himself.

            “It’s polite.”

            “I’m a cam whore. I think we’re beyond the necessity for politeness,” Whiskey replied with a chuckle. He then inserted in another finger. He spread his legs wider, and began to gently fuck himself.

            “Well . . . _yes_. But I think every human being deserves at least some sort of respect,” Harry said, and Whiskey heard the squelching sounds of lube. It was subtle, but it pleased him nevertheless to hear. Harry rarely jacked off to him during their live streams. Whiskey liked to think that he enjoyed torturing himself, but perhaps the man was just uncomfortable?

            “Very admirable thought, I suppose,” Whiskey said as he inserted a third finger and began to move his fingers in a circle motion before he’d stretch them outwards, trying to make himself as loose as possible. Once he found himself stretched enough, he grabbed a dildo and lubed it up. Despite the fact he knew he was pretty loose, there was never such a thing as too much lube.

            He slowly began to insert it. He grunted loudly, and threw his head back, panting. It wasn’t so much that he was in pain as it was that being stretched so full made him feel euphoric. Slowly, he began to fuck himself with the dildo, and picked up pace. “ _Christ_ ,” he grunted, as he jerked himself off as well in an off-rhythm motion. He knew it wouldn’t be long until he came. He normally lasted longer, but Harry always insisted on the streams being fast. Whiskey wondered if it was for work, or if he had a spouse that was coming home. Either way, he felt the dildo brush against his prostate once, and he gasped softly. Without Harry’s words to work him up, his cum just shot out and then dribbled down his cock.

            He panted heavily, and slowly removed the dildo. He let out shaky breaths, and tiredly dropped it down onto the bed next to him, as Harry’s breath hitched. Whiskey really hoped that he had came as well. “Christ, I would love to lick that off of you.”

            “Maybe some day you will,” Whiskey smiled crookedly. It was something they said to each other every stream. Before Whiskey started dating Eggsy he had meant it as a promise. Now it was just a joke that would never go anywhere.

            “Perhaps . . .” Harry drew off, “Thank you again. I’m guessing you got the payment?”

            “I did, like always,” Whiskey smiled. “Thank you.”

            “Of course . . .”

            “See ya, darlin’,” Whiskey said, smiling crookedly before he reached up and turned the camera off. He sighed heavily, and fell back on the bed. He glanced at the clock. Soon, Eggsy would be going to his class soon. Then, Jack would pick him up and take him out for lunch. He had a couple of hours to waste, and he needed a bath, some food, and a fuckin’ nap.

            With a grunt, he slowly sat up, and rose to his feet. If he was going to pick Eggsy up on time, he needed to get going now. Slightly disgruntled, he got up, and got to work.

 

 

            Jack walked through Eggsy’s college, heading towards his building. Jack was a little angry, to say the least. He was here on time, and Eggsy was taking _his_ sweet time. While he understood that Eggsy was busy, they had so little time together today, and Jack wanted to spend his free time with him, God dammit!

            Jack adjusted his leather jacket and pushed his sunglasses up on his face. People gave him an odd look, and he did look odd, but did he give a shit?

            Nah.

            He finally found the lecture hall, and he stepped inside. The hall was empty except for two people—Eggsy and his professor. Jack began to jog down the steps to meet them in the middle, and when they looked up to him, he said, “Eggsy, darlin’, we’ve got to get goin’. What’s been takin’ so long?”

            Eggsy looked up sheepishly. “Sorry, I was talking to Professor Hart about the sub context in our reading assignment, it got a little out of hand,” he said as he glanced towards Professor Hart.

            Jack turned his gaze onto Hart, and he heard the man inhale sharply. Jack raised an eyebrow at the main, who kept staring at him like he had just seen the ghost of his mother. “Are you all right, mate?” Jack asked, putting his hands on his hips.

            Professor Hart cleared his throat. Uneasily, he said, “I’m perfectly all right, thank you. I’m sorry for keeping your partner behind, I was just having such an enrapturing conversation with him.” This time, it was _Jack’s_ turn to have his eyes widen in shock, and gasp in surprise. Eggsy glanced between them, curious as to why they were so shocked, but he didn’t have the balls to ask.

            “I-it’s all right. No harm done. I’m just glad he wasn’t trouble or anything,” Jack replied, nodding to him. “But we best be going. It was nice to meet you, Professor Hart,” Jack said as he held his hand out.

            Professor Hart nodded back. “It was nice to meet you as well . . .?”

            “Jack.”

            “Jack,” Professor Hart smiled. Jack couldn’t believe it. He honestly couldn’t.

            “All right . . . See you,” Eggsy said, nodding to Harry as he grabbed Jack by the wrist and dragged him out of the room. “What the fuck _was_ that?” he asked once they got outside.

            Jack glanced behind him. “It’s a long story.” It was all he could say. Eggsy just rolled his eyes, and pushed him along to the car.


End file.
